In your shadow
by voldie's lover
Summary: A close look into Bill and Tom Kaulitz's life, from the beginning, until now. Warning: twincest.
1. Chapter 1

**I'd mentioned this song in my fic 'You and Me', and the next thing I knew, I felt inspired to write a fic on these lovable twins. :)**

**Pairing: BillxTom**

**Warning: Twincest**

**In your shadow.**

* * *

Bill sat curled up like a cat on his armchair, an old photo album sitting snugly in his lap. He had his long blond mane tied back into a low pony, and was wearing his favourite, comfy pajamas with silly paw prints on it, along with a small, stupid smile. Well, he still hid his childishness and soft, sensitive nature very well beneath all that toughed-up look that he had adopted.

It was Tom's idea – that they should all go for a thorough image makeover. He said it'd be weird if they'd still be in their teenage avatar when their bodies had clearly grown out of it as they filled out, their faces turning more angular, shaping into that of adult men that they now were.

Well, the reason that he had this stupid smile on his lips was because of the photo album. Obviously it was filled with pictures of him and Tom; from them in their diapers, dribbling onto their bibs, to crawling on the floor on their chubby hands and feet, to soiling their tiny pants as they rolled and pushed and shoved on the muddy ground..

To standing side by side in their very first school uniform, their faces apprehensive (Tom leaned more toward a sulky-apprehensiveness, while Bill's was a more of pensive kind)..

To the day Bill decided that playing guitar wasn't his cup of tea, he was too flighty and impatient for it, and was singing loudly into a microphone, all of his seven-year-old bubbly enthusiasm brimming over into his rich, ringing voice, while Tom stood by him, patiently strumming the strings, his face scrunched in absolute concentration as he strived to maintain the co-ordination between the fingers of his inexperienced left and right hands.

To the day they got their very first image makeover – Tom with his blond dreads, and Bill with his hair dyed jet black.

To the day they took their first snap with the Gs – Georg and Gustav standing like sentinels on either side as they both stood with wide grins on their rosy faces and wind whipping at their hair, against a pretty backdrop of some abandoned old cottage in their hometown.

Each picture had memories behind them – some beautiful, while some painful.

He looked at the next photo. It was of he and Tom sitting huddled together under a blanket on their bed. Their mum had taken it without their knowledge. Later on Simone would admit that she had found herself in a conflict of emotions – her heart confused, whether to float with utter love and adoration for her sons as she found the sight so very poignant and cute, or to plummet down with the unbearable weight of anguish at the situation her sons were facing because of her and her husband's differences. That apart from her, they had just each other to depend on now.

He then smoothed a gentle hand over the next picture. It was of him and Tom creating music. Gordon had tried explaining to him that he had to press his second finger on the third fret of the sixth string, his first finger on second fret of the fifth string, and his third finger on the third fret of the first string to make the G major chord, and he had bungled up royally even after the fiftieth try, while Tom got it right within just ten tries. It was just that Bill expected to strum it right right on his first try, and became pissed and impatient when he couldn't, and his impatience made him careless, while Tom would maintain his cool, patiently trying to learn how to get it right.

Tom had a smug grin when he finally had strummed it right, and Bill had his pout as he sat by his side with his arms crossed, his guitar lying abandoned on the floor. Gordon was beaming appreciatively at Tom.

Well, Bill had then petulantly chucked the pick at Gordon when his step-dad's smile switched from appreciative to sympathetic as he turned his gaze on him, but oh well, that wasn't in the picture.

He turned to the next picture, and burst into soft giggles. Tom was by the tub, butt-naked; his arms, a side of his face, and his dreads caked with dried mud. That was the result of Bill pushing him into the muck when Tom had teased him about the way his voice had broken a bit, coming out with a squeak while they were performing at the local pub.

Bill plummeted further into that memory, his brown eyes staring off into the past and his lips graced by a soft smile.

_Tom sat on the swing that evening. The sky was a brilliant red-orange above them, and the world around them was lit by the same shade. It was relatively empty here around this area of the park. Bill sat right next to his brother, idly picking at a painted nail as he leaned back and forth to make them swing lightly._

_"Scheisse!" Bill exclaimed suddenly._

_"Huh? What?" Tom looked over at him._

_"We didn't do Ms. Kohler's homework." he said fretfully._

_Tom looked at him for a few seconds in silent incredulity, before snorting and looking away._

_"What? Tomi! I always end up with that jerk Hahn in the detention! I'm scared of her detentions!_" _He was scared of Hahn- that was a more accurate way of putting it. Ms. Kohler knew that Hahn picked on him brutally, and she deliberately made Bill serve his detention in Hahn's company while she sent Tom away on some other task for detention. That horrible witch of a teacher knew just how to torture Bill. But Bill yet had to disclose it to Tom that the reason he had a busted lip after the last detention with Hahn was not because he had accidently tripped and smashed his lips onto the desk's edge, but because Hahn had smashed his fist onto them because Bill and his kohl-lined eyes were too girly for Hahn's liking. Tom wouldn't have been acting so cool right now if he knew anything about Bill's small modification to the actual story._

_"You must learn to man up, Bill," Tom advised his younger brother wisely, "Take detentions like a man." he nodded sagely, "Like- like me, for example. I end up with Muller for detentions. But do I whine about how I have to endure his stench while he is hanging all over me, trying to peer into my paper so that he can see the spelling of 'Science'?_

_Bill simply pouted as he went back to swinging and picking at his nail paint._

_"Billa," Tom drew a bit close to him, and cradled his jaw lightly, turning his face toward him, "Well, we _can_ do the homework," he grudgingly said, "If it makes you happy.."_

_Bill frowned, "Ugh I hate doing homeworks as much as you do, Tomi!" he said vehemently, "Its just – I don't want the detention."_

_"Its just – I'm being such a girl about the detention." Tom imitated him in a mock-girly voice._

_"Shut up." Bill looked away with a grumpy frown._

_"Aw Billa," Tom squirmed even more close to him in that already crammed place that they were sharing, and draped his arms around him, "Shtop being sho grouchy.." he said in a babyish tone, as though coddling him. When Bill still refused to look at him, Tom bumped hard against him playfully._

_"Tomi!" but Bill was grinning through his frown now._

_"Yeah my Billa?"_

_"Ugh, you're being a git."_

_"You love it."_

_Bill had forgotten that he had stopped swinging, so he started rocking back and forth again, making them both swing lightly together, sitting with their arms loosely draped around each other's waist and watching the sky slowly turn a deeper shade of red._

_"But you know Billa," Tom said suddenly after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "I like it."_

_"What?"_

_"The way you are such a girl at times."_

_Bill turned to look at his twin's face to see that he had a small smile playing on his lips. "What?" Bill asked for a bit more of elaboration, since not only Tom's confession had seemed a little out of the blue, but Bill could also sense that a fight was on the horizon – where he, Bill, would bash his twin, Tom, for being a total arse._

_"Yeah. The way you are such a girl at times. Like when you had squeaked like a girl last Saturday during the chorus of Ich Leibe– wooah!"_

_Tom didn't get to complete his sentence because Bill had shoved him hard right off the swing onto the ground, squelchy and mucky from the rain that morning._

Bill didn't realize that he had a wide grin on his face as he fondly trailed his fingers on the photo-Tom's muddy dreads.

He turned the picture, and the next one was of him and Tom on the couch. Tom had his arm in a sling, and sat leaning comfortably against the couch, while Bill had his head in Tom's lap as he lay sprawled on the couch. Tom's other hand was in Bill's hair, stroking it lightly, while Bill had his head thrown back, staring up at his twin's dressed arm with a marker-pen held in his hand as he scribbled something on the white dressing. Tom was smiling fondly at him as he watched the look of concentration on Bill's face – eyes wide from staring upward and the tip of his tongue poking out.

The picture right next to this one showed what exactly Bill had scribbled in bright red ink against the white dressing–

_My hero, my saviour_

_My knight in shining armour_

_Did you have to go and break_

_Your arm and end up with this plaster?_

_Did you think that I would cheer?_

_Oh I was dying with fear_

_My hero, my saviour_

_Your love is all I require_

_But though you are foolishly heroic_

_You are my knight in shining armour..._

_..."NOO TOMII!"_

_"How dare you, you puny little bitch!" Hahn hissed at his brother who stood stiff and poised, like a snake ready to strike once again. Today, Hahn and his cronies, few of them older boys, had crossed their limits, and Bill had hoped and prayed futilely that Tom wouldn't discover it._

_"TOMII! COME HERE! COME BACK! LEAVE HIM!" Bill tugged at his brother's arm with all his might, praying frantically that his brother would heed his loud, beseeching pleads. His Tomi was being foolish and reckless. He knew Tom would react this way if he ever found out, and that was the reason why Bill had all this while kept all the bullying a secret. His twin's painfully thin, ten year old frame was no match for the beefcakes who were staring down at them with murderous intentions._

_"How dare _you, _you arsehole. How dare you call my brother _that_?"_

_"'That' what, Kaulitz? Say it out loud, why don't you?" one of Hahn's cronies sneered._

_"Oooh! Kaulitz can't bear to say that word," another boy mocked, "Hey Heinz, did you know that they made that word after they saw Bill Kaulitz?"_

_They all guffawed loudly at that._

_"Say it, Kaulitz!" Hahn demanded, leaning down and leering arrogantly at Tom, "Tell us what your brother is!"_

_Tom's reply to that was raising his arm and punching Hahn square in his face once again, this time making his nose bleed heavily. Hahn howled as he reeled backward, bringing a hand to his nose and staring at the blood on his hand in horror._

_"You!" Hahn's cronies screamed bloody murder as they charged at Tom._

_"NOOO! LEAVE HIM! LEAVE HIM PLEASE! PLEASE!"_

_No. Tom was completely surrounded by those pitiless jerks._

_No no no._

_"HELP! SOMEONE!" Bill screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stood there in the seemingly abandoned street in his tattered clothes that were ripped and shredded cruelly by those bullies._

_Oh why did he run for their home without Tom? Why did he have to yell at Andreas to buzz off when he came running to him when he saw Bill leave the school in a huff? Why did he have to run away with tears in his eyes, his heart aching in inexplicable hurt when he had found Tom with that bint Vanessa, huddled away to a corner near the lockers; when he saw _his_ Tomi looking at Vanessa with the same love in his eyes that was reserved just for him, _his_ Tomi's hands cradling her jaw the same way they cradled his, _his_ Tomi's lips on hers...those lips that ought to be on his.._

_But that was when Bill got painfully confused. He wanted his Tomi to kiss him on his lips too. Why won't he kiss him on his lips when he could kiss a stupid girl with whom he hardly ever shared a few words. Why was it that he would just kiss his cheeks, and not his lips too? He was the one who was close to Tom, and not some stupid girl. He was the one who was Tom's, and Tom's alone. His blood, every cell of him, his soul, his whole being, belonged to Tom. Hell, he shared it all with Tom._

_He was half-running, half-walking through the street, tears of... betrayal, brimming in his eyes, when he felt hands grabbing him from behind. They whirled him around roughly to face them, and Bill saw, with sinking feeling, that it was Hahn and his friends with evil intentions in their eyes. His blood turned ice cold by the second as he stared at them with wide eyes._

_And then it was pain that wracked through his ten year old body as they hurt him with both taunting words and teasing hands._

_..."Oh look, it's the famous singer, Bill Kaulitz!"..._

_..."Famous _gay_ singer, man, famous _gay_ singer."..._

_..."Did you see that stupid girly dance he did when he was singing for old grannies in the park last week?"..._

_..."You like dicks, Bill? Would you suck mine?"..._

_..."Oh I wouldn't mind getting my dick sucked by him. He looks like a pretty little girl,"..._

_He had then heard his Tomi shout, he had then seen his Tomi run toward him, his face frenzied and angry, had seen him shove them away from him forcefully, sheer anger and adrenaline giving him shocking strength..._

_Tom was now screaming in pain from somewhere in the midst of those hulking boys._

_No. No. NO._

_"LEAVE HIM, YOU BASTARDS! LEAVE HIM!" Bill latched onto a guy, trying to pull him away from his brother, hitting him wherever his frantic fists could reach..._

_"Ugh Stefan, take this screaming little bitch off me!"_

_Bill bit the guy who had grabbed him viciously on his arm._

_"Stupid little cunt. Now watch your twin paying for your insolence,"_

_"Haha Ralf, what if I just break his bloody arms? Then he won't be able to play guitar to his faggot brother!"_

_"NOO! LET GO OF HIM! NOO!" Bill thrashed against the arms that kept him firmly bound._

_Tom's cry rent the air when Bill heard a sickening crunch of arm being twisted brutally._

_Bill screamed incoherently, his eyes scrunched shut tightly as tears flowed freely._

Bill could never understand what it was to this day – was it twist of fate, or their sheer luck, or that someone above had felt mercy on them after all their struggles – the struggle to make their dreams come true, the struggle they went through to try and create good music with just Bill's vocals and Tom's guitar, the struggle they went through to make the local pubs and gatherings to book them for a performance...

But then Andreas had found them then. He was the one who had run back and got them help, who had rescued them.

The help he had brought along were some older boys from their school.

And one of them was their link to Georg and Gustav.

* * *

More of Bill's musings on their pictures to follow! I own 'My knight in shining armour' *grins* :D


	2. Chapter 2

Bill was in a conflict of emotions, his heart clenching and fluttering at the same time, when he saw a picture of him and Tom at a beach when they were kids. Their father had taken that picture without their knowledge. He trailed a light finger on the photo-Tom's dreads that was tied up into a bun, a few escaping the knot and falling onto his exposed, slight shoulders, as he walked hand in hand with Bill, both wearing baggy shorts. They looked happy, lost in some soft conversation, smiling quietly as the salty wind caressed their faces and lifted their hair...

_It was a lonely little beach, with jagged cliffs looming to the far right of them. The cliffs curved forward before they pitched into the sea, leaving in their wake a wide arc of flat ground blanketed in fine yellow sand. Stretched before them was the infinite blue of the sky that met the dark blue horizon of the sea. _

_Bill and Tom were sprawled on the fine, slightly damp sand, soaking in the sunlight, the warm water caressing their legs each time the small, dying, gentle waves broke at their feet. They were waiting for Jorg, who had gone for a bit to bring them all something to drink._

_It was summer vacation, and, as the custom was, they had to spend some time of the vacation with their father. That was why they now found themselves here, squinting up at the clear blue sky and letting their skin warm under the sun. They were enjoying their few Jorg-free minutes now as they slowly reached for each other's hand, twining their fingers. They turned and looked at each other at the same time, breaking into small grins._

_Their eyes were locked, and Bill stared into his twin's chocolate brown eyes, warm and sparkling in the sun's glare, and he saw his own reflection in them. His eyes trailed to Tom's lashes..his eyebrows that were scrunched up as he squinted..his pert little nose...his cheeks...his lips..lip ring glinting under the sun... He was glowing in the sun's yellow shine._

_"What're you staring at?" Tom's murmur broke him from his daze._

_"You, duh.." Bill replied right away, grinning._

_Tom simply smiled fondly at him as he reached his other hand that wasn't linked with his to ruffle his short black hair, the act making his bangs fall into his eyes. Tom smoothed them back from his face the next instant, tucking a few strands behind his ear._

_"This isn't so bad, is it?" Bill said, turning his head and staring up at the sky, "I mean, it's going fine until now." he said, referring to their outing with their father._

_"Well, you're feeling like that 'cause he isn't here now," Tom said sullenly, "You'll once again feel all awkward and clammed-up once he gets back."_

_Bill let out a huge sigh. "Hmm.. I guess we should simply enjoy the present, then.."_

_Tom's reply was just a gentle press to his hand. It was affectionate, and approving of Bill's statement._

_Bill then had a sudden idea, and turned to Tom excitedly. "Let's play writing-on-your-back-and-guessing-what's-it!" he declared animatedly._

_Tom's smile was slightly amused. "Okay," he laughed, loving to just go along with whatever Bill wanted._

_Bill impatiently pulled himself up into a sitting position. Tom lazily held up his hands toward Bill, silently asking him to pull him up with a crooked grin. Bill rolled his eyes, and gripped Tom's arms, pulling him up. They then simply laughed. _

_Bill hastily turned his back to Tom. "Me first to guess! C'mon Tomi, write something on my back."_

_"Um..is drawing allowed?" Tom asked, sitting close behind him._

_"Yeah." Bill made up his on-the-spot rule, "But, nothing complicated."_

_"Okay," Tom replied, then hummed a bit, thinking what to draw._

_"Aha," Tom said, and the next instant, Bill felt a finger trailing on his back, slowly tracing a pattern._

_Bill concentrated on the sensation of his twin's touch on his back, trying to make out the path Tom's finger followed – it began at the dip to his backbone, then trailed up gently to his shoulder blade, then travelled down, nail lightly scraping as it slowly reached his tail bone (and Bill felt an inexplicable shiver coursing through him at that, coupled with a funny feeling in his belly), then it began on a similar arc back to his other shoulder blade, before descending back to where it started – to the middle, into the dip of his backbone._

_Bill was grinning as he said, "A heart?"_

_Tom laughed, "Yeah,"_

_"Yay!" Bill yipped happily, "So, what do I get for guessing correctly?"_

_"What do you want?"_

_"Uhmm..I don't know, Tomi!" he frowned as he turned back slightly to look at Tom._

_"Well.." Tom knit his brows as he thought over it. Then he said, "Maybe something that's related to a heart?"_

_"Oh. What's something related to a heart?"_

_"Well," Tom knit his brows again, "Heart, brings to mind love..and love brings to mind..?" he then grinned as he wiggled his brows, nudging Bill toward the correct guess._

_"Tomi!" Bill answered, confident that he had guessed it right._

_But Tom's features simply turned into that of confusion as he said, "What?"_

_"Love brings to mind Tomi!" Bill said, thinking why Tom wasn't getting it. But then his expression too settled into that of confusion as he said, "So, I get..you?" he asked sceptically._

_Tom shook his head, "No. That wasn't what I meant." _

_"Then? Ugh what's the correct guess then, Tomi? I thought we were just playing writing-on-your-back-and-guessing..not solving-riddles," he pouted._

_Tom smiled as he looked at him for a few seconds. "This, Billa.." he whispered into his ear, before bringing his lips to his cheek, kissing him softly._

_Bill gasped, then grinned happily as he said, "A kiss! Haha..Oh Tomi!" he turned back all the way around to sit facing Tom, and kissed him back hard, with a loud smack, on his cheek, and Tom toppled a little sideways by the force._

_Tom laughed at his bouncy enthusiasm, and gazed fondly at him. "Oh, my little Billa.." he said; unbounded, unquestionable, absolute love in his eyes. He cradled his jaw tenderly, the way he always does whenever he felt such love for him, and kissed him again on his cheek. But this time, Tom didn't stop with one kiss...he kept pressing light kisses on his cheek, slowly trailing toward his jaw..._

_He saw Tom's closed eyes and lost, immersed face, that was just a hair's breadth away from his own.._

_His lips and breath were like soft feather on his skin..with just the lightest of graze from his lip ring.._

_His warm hands were so tender against his jaw..cradling as though he was something fragile..._

_And Bill's eyes clouded.._

_His heart thudded with increasing rhythm.._

_His breath caught.._

_His head swam.._

_His eyes fluttered shut.._

_The sunlight was fiery red against his closed lids.._

_His breath quickened.._

_His body was afire.._

_"Hnh..Tomiii.." oh god this is what heaven felt like..._

_He had died.._

_Surely.._

_For Tom was pressing soft kisses to his throat.._

_"Oh.." Bill held on for dear life as he wound his arms under Tom's and clutched at his bare shoulders..._

_"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?!"_

_They jumped six feet into the air at the loud, furious voice of his father._

_Jorg looked insanely livid (and even that would be an understatement) as he stared at them, standing, stock still, a few feet of distance away from them, three large paper cups with thick white straws shoved into them clutched in his hand._

That memory...it still..after all these years of fame and awards and accolades and riches and recognition..._still_ made him want to curl into a ball and cry the rest of his days away..

Still made him feel so wrong..so twisted..

And so angry at their father.

_"Get off. Get off, you pervert." Jorg muttered as he opened his old truck's door, and roughly pushed Bill out, making him lose his footing and land on his stomach onto the ground._

_Tom hastily hopped off the truck and was beside him the next instant, helping him up, while glaring with undiluted loathing at their father._

_Jorg got off and banged the door shut behind him as he glowered back at Tom. "Don't you give me that look boy. This time I'm going to make your teeth fall off with my fist." he snarled. He then roughly grabbed their shirts in two fists and yanked them up, and then pulled them both with him as he marched to the front door of their home._

_"Let's see what justification Simone has for this. What justification she has for her and her wonderful parenting." Jorg muttered, his teeth gnashing together, as he took such quick, angry strides that Bill and Tom had to run to keep up with him._

_Bill was sobbing piteously. "Please father. Forgive us. Please. We're sorry!"_

_"Shut up!" Jorg bellowed as he gave a rough jerk to the hand clutching Bill's shirt, and shook Bill violently, "One more word from your filthy mouth and I'm going to spank you six days into Sunday."_

_They stopped at the door, and their father left his grip on their shirts and banged his fist hard on the door._

_The door opened after a few moments, and Simone's expression turned horrified when she took one look at her sons, and the angry bruises they sported. Bill had a red, raised imprint of a large palm on his rapidly swelling cheek. Tom's jaw was red and sore, and a bit of dried blood was caked disturbingly near his lip ring._

_"Oh my god! What happened?!" she asked hysterically as she reached out for them._

_Jorg gave a hard shove on their backs, making them lurch forward, toward their mum, and she frantically gathered them into her arms. Something inside Bill broke, and he cried hard into their mum's apron. Tom, however, was very quiet and still beside him as he rested his head against their mum's maternal warmth and looked at Bill's tightly shut eyes and quivering lips._

_"Incest! That was what happened!" Jorg hissed._

_"Wh- what?" their mum whispered, utter confusion and shock at Jorg's unexpected, astonishing words._

_"Yes. Your darling lads are perverts. Especially this filthy, effeminate wimp that I have for a son. He likes to entice his brother with his batting lashes and girlish talks."_

_"Jorg what utter drivel are you blathering?!" their mum yelled in anger._

_"I had left them by themselves for a while, and when I got back I found these two..kissing and..embracing!" Jorg hissed in utter revulsion, "Its so revolting! This filthy sick wimp was enjoying it!"_

_Simone simply stared at him in disbelief._

_"This is all your fault! All your fault! You and your flawed parenting. You and your boyfriend's teaching! What else can one expect when they're growing under your care!"_

_"SHUT UP!" Simone shrieked. "You are so- so PATHETIC Jorg." she said with absolute venom, "How can you stoop so low to win against me? How can you twist something so innocent and beautiful into something so..vile to- to just win against me?! They've always been affectionate with each other, you blithering idiot!"_

_"Oh! Being affectionate involves panting when your brother is kissing you on the neck?!" Jorg whispered dangerously._

_And they heard the sound of palm striking hard against flesh._

_Simone had slapped Jorg across his face. Hard._

_"Get lost. One more stupidity from your mouth and I'll punch it for good." Simone said, her voice deadly quiet. "What are you staring at, Jorg? Didn't you hear what I'd said? Get lost!"_

Their mum hadn't believed one word Jorg had said. She was weeping and sniffing as she applied some ointment to their sore skin, then pressed a light kiss on each of their cheeks. She had assured them that she'd always be there for them – through the sun and the storm, through thick and thin; and that nobody's inane, stupid schemes could change her mind.

And Bill had thought that the emotions that filled and travelled through him when his Tomi had kissed him was nothing but his love for him.

Their father was wrong. He was inane and stupid to hit them unnecessarily.

Their mum would always be there for them. Through the sun and the storm. Through thick and thin. And she'd kept her promise. Right until this day.

Such incidents were what had watered and nurtured the seed of hatred that had been planted inside their hearts against their father right at a tender age. Such incidents were what had driven them into excluding their father from their will, had made them offer him 6000 euros to ensure that he won't breathe a word about their personal life to anyone – the personal life in which Jorg unfortunately had a part, especially in those episodes which could shock the world and ruin their careers.

It was only later that he'd learn about the boundaries between brotherly love and incestuous love. It was only later that he'd learn that when Tom had kissed him that day, he too had been as oblivious as Bill had been about such boundaries. It was only later that Simone would realize the truth in Jorg's words that had seemed like a deranged man's rambling back then.

But that still hadn't changed their loathing for him.

Bill saw the next picture that held the memory of one among the many incidents that made them loathe their father. It was a picture that had been taken almost a year after that incident at the beach. In this, he and his twin stood (a wide grin on Bill's face, that, to an observer, might seem genuinely happy, but in actuality those pearly whites hid his uncertainty behind them. Tom, on the other hand, had a polite smile) with their father on Christmas day, a scantily, shoddily decorated Christmas tree behind them...

_"Why do we have to go there and ruin a day we'd love to spend in peace?" Tom grumbled._

_"Tom," their mum looked at him pleadingly, "Please, just..cooperate, please.. For me?"_

_"Yeah mum," Bill interrupted before Tom could gripe more, "Don't worry. We'll be good."_

_Simone visibly relaxed at that. She smiled at Bill, "Thank you, dearie.." she bent and gave them both a peck on their cheeks, "He should be here by evening to pick you two up." so saying, she went back to preparing stuff for the lunch._

_Bill and Tom helped their mum and Gordon with things as they awaited their mum's folks who were coming over for the day – their grandma, their aunt and her husband, and their cousins..._

_It was nearing one in the afternoon, when the front door was opened and a horde of grinning, pink-faced people spilled in to their home – and Bill and Tom were being strangled as they were engulfed in huge hugs without break. The house was filled with incessant chatter as they all slowly settled in. _

_Bill and Tom didn't particularly like spending time with their relatives, except for their granny. They absolutely adored Petra. Unlike the others, she never judged them, never tried forcing her opinions on them. She'd sit there, a perpetual grimace on her face – to an onlooker she might come across as a grumpy old lady. But in reality, Petra was a softie. It was just the way she was – she'd grumble about her aching knee and how she still would love to go skiing despite that, then berate her daughter about how she should stop being so neurotic about her sons (she'd scowl extra fiercely). She always talked about this 'sixth-sense' of hers. She swore that it was a real thing, no matter what others scoffed at what she professed. So, this sixth-sense had told her the moment she had set her eyes on her darling 'Hasi' (for Bill) and 'Barli' (for Tom) (they'd squirm in utter embarrassment whenever Petra used those terms of endearment for them), that they'd be wonderful young men who everyone would admire one day. She talked about some 'aura' about them._

_Oh well, their granny was slightly cranky, but they loved that about her. It was amusing to just watch her talk and grumble. _

_They'd never forget the days when she used come over back when they were little kids - when their dad had just left them. She used to gather them both in her lap, and talked for hours on end about things that she swore had happened in old times, and stories that left deep, long-lasting impressions in their minds. That was how she had gradually took their minds off the void left in their life after Jorg had left them. And as little boys, they had happily lost themselves in her surreal stories._

_And those memories were what still brought such warm feelings in them toward her.._

_Well, the others – they were just the opposite of Petra. Bill thought that their smiles lacked authenticity, their vivaciousness forced. Their aunt's husband, Niklas, liked to brag about how talented his sons were in sports. Bill and Tom thought that their cousins were just baby whales walking on two legs. They weren't as oblivious as their uncle might think they were to his disapproving glances at their skinny frames, their utter neglect of anything related to sports, and - their closeness. He had hinted one too many times whenever they'd gather that boys ought to be 'tough', 'sporty' and 'independent'; and any behaviour that violated that simply couldn't be considered normal for boys. Oft times, Niklas reminded them of their father._

_Like now, as they sat in the living room, Niklas stole a glance at their touching arms and bumping knees as they sat close together on the couch, and he slightly cleared his throat._

_Tom snorted at that, and squirmed even closer to Bill, this time taking his hand in his and interweaving their fingers, just to displease Niklas. Bill peered down at their twined fingers, and, caring neither about the circumstances nor the people around them, felt his heart bubbling up in contentment, and, being the impulsive idiot that he was, burrowed his head into his brother's neck. _

_Niklas' eyebrows rose, and he turned and tried engage in some conversation with Gordon, who was so used to their intimacy that he didn't even notice it._

_Their aunt..well, she was sort of nice. She could've been nicer if she'd stop hinting at granny all the time to make a will for the share of properties. Petra would say something sarcastic to that..like - "The stupider you become, Susanne, the longer I'll live," along with her patented scowl._

_The evening came all too soon for their liking, and soon, they heard a truck coming to a halt outside, and then there was a knock at the door. Gordon went and opened the door, to let their father in. _

_Jorg had on his too-frayed jacket and too-washed-out jeans as he entered in. _

_Their father forced a tight smile at Gordon, who smiled uncomfortably in return._

_"Come in, Jorg," Gordon said politely._

_"Well, I don't think I need permission to come in and get _my_ sons now, do I?" Jorg said, a fake smile plastered to his face._

_"Ah, Jorg," Petra interrupted, being blatantly rude, "You do need permission to enter a house that's not yours. And to get the sons who are under the custody of the person to whom the house belongs."_

_At this, Jorg's unctuous smile disappeared, and his grey eyes were cold as he said, "Well, Petra, I really do not wish to get into any silly disagreements right now when I'm finally meeting my sons after so long." their father turned to them, "Hello, Tom, Bill. If you both are ready, then we can leave," he smiled at them, and Bill's heart broke at that smile. It wasn't because that smile was particularly loving or heartbreaking..but because it was so painfully rare..so painfully forced – it was so obvious that their father was trying to make it seem natural.. _

_They were strangers. Their father and them...they were strangers to each other. These occasional, awkward meets could do nothing..NOTHING..to bridge the gap. It had grown too wide now._

_They said their goodbyes to their mum and Gordon, and soon, they were seated in the truck with their father. _

_It was eerily, and damn awkwardly quiet when they started off._

_Bill was sitting next to his father who was at the driver's seat, and Tom was to his other side; Bill was seated between the two of them. Tom was now gazing blankly out the glass at the passing streets bathed in orange light from the street lamps. The light fell on his brother's face, making his smooth skin glow orange against the darkness inside the truck, his lip ring glinting as it caught the passing lights. Bill kept watching Tom to calm his frayed nerves. Being anywhere near his father made him feel small and guilty and vulnerable. It was just..the way his father would look at him – as though he was so thoroughly disappointed in him. And when he thought about the incident that had happened before their previous two short, awkward meets – the incident that had at the beach happened last year..Bill felt all the more scared._

_Tom sensed him. He sensed his discomfort. Because the next moment, he turned to look at him, a hint of a question and concern in his brown eyes as he looked at Bill's face. He took one look into Bill's eyes, and then the next instant, took Bill's hand in his yet again that day, this time caressing a thumb against his pulse. Their eyes met again, and Tom silently conveyed to him to stay calm, and assured him that he was there for him._

_Bill melted at that, and acting on his impulse again, leaned into his brother, resting his head on his shoulder; and soon, the world around him slowly faded as he settled into Tom's comforting warmth and scent._

_"Are you not feeling well, Bill?" Jorg suddenly asked, a bite of irritation in his voice, and Bill nearly jumped at that, for he had almost forgotten about the world around him as he lost himself to a world of his and Tom's cocoon._

_ "N-no, Im fine," Bill said, hating that his voice came out small and nervous._

_"Okay. Good. Then I think you can sit upright? It's not very good for your posture, this – hunching and bending."_

_Bill quickly pulled himself up straight, Jorg's words making him feel like a fool. Their hands were still entwined, though; hidden away from Jorg's eyes, wedged between their thighs._

_After a few minutes of silence, Jorg asked, "How's your school going?"_

_"Fine," Bill mumbled._

_Few more minutes of tense silence followed._

_"So, you two are still crazy about your gigs and all?"_

_"Yes." Tom replied very tersely. Both Bill and Tom could sense where this conversation was heading, and that was what made Tom go rigid beside him. Bill simply clutched at his brother's hand tighter for reassurance and comfort, and Tom squeezed his hand back lovingly._

_Jorg's jaw tightened visibly. Silence reigned in the truck, broken only by the sound of their breathing, and the rumble of the engine. After a few minutes, Jorg spoke up, "I bet that Gordon is responsible for all this?"_

_"For all what?" Tom gritted out in controlled anger._

_Bill squeezed the hand in his, meaning to warn Tom to calm down. They had promised their mum that they'd be good, didn't they?_

_"For you two going all around the town acting so immature. He's the one, what with his silly little band-schwand and all, who's pulling the strings for you. It's embarrassing. There hardly are any people left by the time you are through with a song."_

_"We'll manage with whatever few people are left behind." Tom spat._

_Bill pleaded with his eyes at Tom to hold his tongue. He turned to their father, and said, "Its..it's what we love to do, father. Please try and understand that its..its our passion. We'll try harder to – to win over people."_

_Jorg glanced at him briefly, before turning his eyes back on the road ahead, "I just want the best for you both, is all. Do you think these gigs and other such waste of time's going to get you anywhere?"_

_"Oh. If you had such deep insights about what and what not to do for a good future then why are you just a measly trucker?" Tom snapped at their father rudely._

_Bill felt something drop in his stomach at that. He braced himself for the worst as he stole a glance at their father._

_Jorg looked as though he was going to explode with fury – his jaws clenched, his lips a thin line, and his hands on the steering wheel tight. But his voice was absolutely calm when he said, "I will not appreciate being talked to in this manner, Tom. I'm your father."_

_Tom ground his teeth together to keep himself from saying anything extremely harsh when Bill begged of him with his eyes._

_Bill mouthed at Tom to apologize to their father._

_Tom scowled wincingly before muttering, "Sorry." He couldn't say no to Bill's request._

_The rest of the ride to their father's house passed in unmitigated silence._

_They pulled to a stop before a small house – the roof coated in thick snow, and icicles hanging from the windows. A slightly dented mailbox stood near the rusting gate, and weeks of snow was piled up in the front yard, without being cleared at least from the steps to the front door. All signs indicated that Jorg was single – again._

_They'd ordered things, for Jorg hadn't had anything made for them. Tom would ask Bill when they'd be alone why they even bothered to fulfil these customary visits. He said it was all so stupid._

_Now, as they sat around the table that Christmas night, having the take-aways, occasionally peering at the meagrely decorated Christmas tree before them or at the small television that played some silly show, the previous deadly mood lightened a bit, just a bit, when some silly preview on Sieben Tage Sieben Kopfe came up, and their dad attempted a small conversation with them on that – if they watched it as regularly as they used to when they'd last met, and which performer did they like the most in it..._

_And Bill started talking at that. He sensed their father's mood lightening just a bit, and also, Sieben Tage Sieben Kopfe was something that he'd watch once in a while with fairly riveted interest (much to Tom's contempt and irritation; he'd hated it ever since he'd heard that stupid title). Soon enough, Bill was chattering on about how he absolutely adored Rudiger Hoffmann and his bald, witty head._

_It was going a bit well now, and Bill prayed that the mood would remain that way until they'd part. They had even set up a camera before the Christmas tree – to capture that moment of that day forever. They'd stood - Bill_ _grinning his usual brilliant grin reserved for the cameras, and Tom with a forced smile._

_After they were done helping their father clear the table, they made their way out the front door, and into the cold December night. Snow fell at a gentle, steady pace, falling slightly slanted because of the cold wind._

_They were trudging up to the truck, their father walking ahead of them, when Bill's eyes caught a little puppy in that freezing night, lying motionless in a little heap on the thick snow. Its fur was already getting dusted rapidly with white wisps of snow._

_"Oh dear!" Bill exclaimed, the reaction instinctive to him, "Oh Tomi! Look at that poor thing lying there!" _

_"What? Where?" Tom asked, looking into the general direction of Bill's pointing finger._

_"There! That puppy! Oh dear, it might be dying!" Bill said, seeming genuinely distressed._

_Tom's expression cleared as he caught sight of what Bill was pointing at. "Oh. Yeah," he nodded in solemn agreement, "We must move him from there. Move him to someplace warm."_

_But Bill was already hastily running toward the puppy, trying not to trip over due to the heaviness of trying to pull up his booted legs from the thick snow that seemed to pull him downward._

_Bill finally reached the little puppy, and quickly crouched down, closely inspecting it. He could hear Tom's rapidly approaching steps behind him, his boots making quick, crunching noise._

_It was alive, but seemed to be too weak to walk. It was curled up into a furry brown ball, shaking like a leaf._

_Tom settled close beside Bill, and watched as Bill made cooing little sounds of pity as he reached and gently picked the shivering animal up. He brought it close to his chest, inside his jacket, and kept it pressed against his chest._

_Neither of them realized Jorg standing behind them with a disapproving frown. Bill was looking down at the puppy, making little sounds of sympathy and love at it. He then said, "Aw I wanna keep this poor little thing with me, Tomi!" he looked up at his brother for his opinion._

_Tom was smiling that doting smile of his as he said, "Sure you can, Bill. We'll take him home and make him warm.."_

_"And give him something to eat. He looks so weak!" Bill completed, sounding happy at the prospect of keeping the cute thing. He looked down at it again, and cooed, "Aw, dont worry, little 'un.." as he nuzzled his nose against the pup's little black button of a nose, "We'll take care of you.."_

_"You'll leave that thing right there." came their father's stern voice from behind._

_They turned around to look at him – Bill looking in astonishment and panic and Tom in disbelief and anger._

_"But – father! It's dying! It needs to be rescued!" Bill insisted, his pitch rising. He couldn't bear to see animals in distress. Besides, he wanted to keep it!_

_"No. You'll leave it there, and let it die. You know why? Because it'd be a good lesson for you to learn not to act so effeminate!" Jorg said, as though reaching his breaking point. _

_Bill stared at his father, as though slapped._

_Tom, on the other hand, exploded with fury beside him. "Shut up! Just – shut up! He's not effeminate! Dammit! What's wrong with you all?!" he yelled, referring to all those who considered his brother that just because of his sensitive nature and an inclination for goth style._

_They saw a vein throbbing at Jorg's temple, and his jaws tightening. He then said, "Leave it right there, Bill, or you'll watch me pry it from your hand and fling it away."_

_Bill felt his heart crumble into a million pieces. "Please, father.."_

_"Leave. It. There, Bill,"_

_Tears welled up in his eyes as he pleaded, his voice coming strangled through the lump in his throat. "Please, father. Please.."_

_"Bill. I'm telling you for the last time. Leave it there. And let it be a painful reminder to you the next time you'd act like a girl."_

_Tom shifted in front of him, shielding him from their father. "Bill. You'll keep it with you." he then glared at their father with all the hatred he possessed for the man, "You'll have to get past me to make him leave it there!" he snarled angrily like a protective mother cat._

_Bill felt his insides shrivelling and his body trembling in fright as he hid his face into his brother's shoulder. "Please, please, please.." he chanted, dreading whatever was impending._

_He then heard a grunt as his Tomi was roughly shoved aside and the puppy that lay snug in his hands against his chest was grabbed._

_And flung._

Bill had cried that night. Hard.

Tom was frighteningly quiet beside him as they made their way back home in stoic silence. He had pulled Bill into his chest, letting him soak his shirt with tears, when they were seated in the truck, not giving a fuck about any damn thing their father might think of that (and Jorg hadn't snubbed, perhaps because he might've had an ounce of conscience and thought that his punishment for Bill was too harsh..that the release of his pent up frustration he had for them, for their closeness, for them doing their gigs despite the setbacks that they had suffered back then; was really objectionable)

Whatever it was, Tom was there for him back then the way he always had been until then.

He had stroked and petted his hair and held him tight that night..

He had whispered words of comfort and love into his ear..

He had rocked him back and forth lightly as Bill had his face hidden into his chest..

And for the first time in his life, his Tomi had sung a lullaby to him..

Until he'd fallen asleep in his arms.

* * *

**So, that was my take on the reason why Bill and Tom offered Jorg 6000 euros to shut him up about their personal life, and one of the many reasons why they'd excluded him from their will. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Bill now turned to another picture. It was of Tom, in his white karate uniform. He stood striking a defensive pose, a smirk on his face. Bill thought that Tom looked really.._cool_ in that photo. His outfit went well with his long blond dreads, his cheeky grin, and that awesome pose.

Their grandfather had a brief complication of his asthma problem back then (the reason why he hadn't accompanied Petra on Christmas to their home). Tom had made his decision to join karate class shortly after that. They'd seen Sebastian suffer when they'd visited their grandparents shortly after Christmas (after finally hearing from Susanne the real reason why their grandfather hadn't accompanied them on Christmas. Petra was stubbornly hiding the fact from Simone for fear of distressing her daughter.)

They were going through a rough patch of time, what with Jorg's contempt for them and the shock he'd put Bill in for a few days after that Christmas night, and Tom thought that Bill had to suffer yet another shock when they'd seen their tough grandfather in such a state.

Talking of their grandfather – he was a black belt in karate. If Petra was a softie hiding in tough exterior, their grandfather rivalled his wife in matters of toughness. He was in fact, a toughie through and through. He used to have periodic asthma attacks back when he was a kid, and to cope with it, he'd taken up karate. He always said that 'one must overcome one's difficulties and limitations, no matter how hard overcoming them might seem.'

And Tom absolutely admired Sebastian's approach to life – his line of attack to life's challenges was - conquering them the tough way.

For instance, when Petra would gather them up in her arms when they were kids and preferred taking their minds off their gloom with her incredible stories, Sebastian on the other hand liked to harshly remind them every chance he got that they needed to learn how to protect and take care of themselves since their father was 'incompetent' to do that for them, and their mum might not always be there for them (never mind that she'd always been).

So, when Bill had looked inquisitively at his twin when he declared that morning that he wanted to take up karate, Tom had just shrugged nonchalantly, and said that he needed to be strong for them both - the way their grandfather would've been if he were in his place. He said that it'd make Sebastian proud – if he'd be able to be like him, and protect his little brother; and he really wanted to give their grandfather something to cheer about during the rough time that he was going through.

Tom had then added with an evil smirk that once he'll be good at it, he wanted to test his skills on 'certain people' (including their cousins).

'Silly Tomi,' Bill thought with a shake of his head, and a smile caught somewhere between incredulity and fondness at his brother's vehemence and courage (that sometimes could be a bit reckless).

"Oi! Get your arses down here quick! We're late for your class, Tom! It doesn't make a good impression to be late right on the first day!"

That was Andreas downstairs, making the most of his chance to be his bossy self when Tom wasn't around to bring down all of his bossiness with his quick sarcasm. It wasn't that Tom had anything against Andreas. In fact, he considered him as his best friend, second only to Bill. It was just that Tom got a little, just a teeny bit, - nah, jealous isn't the correct word – insecure, yes; Tom got a bit insecure if ever Bill would look more at Andreas than at Tom when they'd talk. The root of the problem lay at the fact that Bill was the one who had befriended Andreas first (ahem, it was the other way round, if truth be told. Andreas had always wanted to be friends with that 'cool black-haired mysterious, emo-but-not-mute kid with kohl-lined eyes'), and Tom, therefore, got attached with the label of being the 'twin brother of my cool new emo friend' (erm, looks-like-a-rapper-hip-hopper beware-of-his-over-protectiveness-and-sporadic-foul-moods older twin brother of my delicate emo friend). Tom considered even the slightest of change in Bill's behaviour with him as a perilous threat to their relation.

'Silly Tomi..' Bill thought with a shake of his head as he stood (all ready with a red jacket, spiked-up hair, and lightly lined eyes) in Tom's bedroom, watching his twin stashing his uniform, towel and some other things into a bag. Tom then turned and hastily ran out the bedroom. Bill ran after his twin, and they thundered their way down the stairs.

Simone 'tried' making them have something to eat before they'd burst out the front door like a pack of wild dogs, in the full zeal of hyper twelve year olds. Andreas had the same look on his face as someone whose bladder was going to explode if they didn't run to the bathroom as soon as possible. Bill liked that about Andreas (not the thing about bladder) – the way he got so involved and concerned about their matters. Bill could see the sincerity and authenticity of his friendship in it.

So the three of them yelled their goodbyes at Simone (who slumped her shoulders in defeat). Tom snatched his skateboard from some deep recesses of their horribly packed shoe rack, flipped it to the ground, and sprang lithely onto it before swiftly skating out their front gate.

Andreas already had his helmet on as he stood ready with his bike, and Bill ran and sprang onto the back seat, gripping the bike with his legs while hastily shoving on the spare helmet Andreas handed him over his head. Andreas was already steering them swiftly out the front gate, and they caught up with Tom who was smoothly skating before them.

Bill turned toward his twin skating next to them, the background passing by in a blur, and Tom's set face the only thing in Bill's focus. Bill was grinning at him.

"So, gonna upper-cut us all now, karate champ?" Bill asked jokingly.

"You don't learn how to deliver upper cuts in karate, Bill!" came Andreas' patronizing voice.

"Shut up!" Bill said the line he could state forcefully when at loss for words, "I meant, to punch us all! Or, whatever, you know what I mean!" he frowned in irritation at Andreas' back.

"Yeah yeah.." Andreas said.

Bill sharply poked Andreas on his back. "I know what upper cuts are you prick! It was just a slip of tongue!" He poked him again.

"Ow! Don't yell at me if you'll fall off the bike, Bill!"

Bill simply poked him some more.

"Well," Tom said as he had his gaze fixed on the road ahead, "I'd given you a list of all the people I'm going to kick in the balls, didn't I, Bill?"

"Haha, Hahn might be the one topping that list.." Andreas laughed. "Bill stop it!" he then yelled as the bike shook a bit when he tried avoiding Bill's pestering hands.

"And you'd be too if you'd keep wobbling your bike and try to crash into me.." Tom said.

"Bill!" Andreas yelled in exasperation, and Bill laughed heartily with his eyes squeezed shut.

He missed that affectionate grin Tom sent his way at his childish antics.

...

They reached soon enough, and Andreas and Bill left Tom at his class before they spent the next three hours until Tom's class got over at Andreas' place. They played some video games Andreas swore were 'brand new', and Bill oohed and aahed at it, genuinely loving it. Then, Andreas' mum had given them waffles when she overheard Bill talking longingly about it. Well, spending time with Andreas was always fun.

They'd then gone back to Tom's class to give him company on his way back home.

Later that night, when they'd retired to their beds after dinner, Bill found Tom sitting on his bed with a wince on his face. Tom had just his pajama bottoms on as he rubbed at his bare arm lightly.

"What's the matter, Tomi?" Bill asked, concerned. He walked over to his twin's bed, before sitting primly beside him on the bed.

"Well, its just my arm.." Tom said as he lifted the arm that he had broken almost two years ago because of Bill (yes, Bill liked to blame himself for that), "Nothing serious, Bill. It's just a slight ache. I think I might've pulled a muscle."

"Oh.." Bill's brows creased in worry, "Did you do anything too strenuous with that arm today?"

"Nothing much except for a few basic blocks and strikes.." Tom replied as he flexed the arm, frowning at it.

Without further ado, Bill inched closer, and gently took Tom's arm in his. He then lightly ran a hand from his shoulder, caressing all the way to his palm.

Tom chuckled at him. "Bill, you can't make sprained muscles better like that. Maybe you should use a spray.."

Bill simply went on gently rubbing his arm up and down, occasionally leaving light presses, confident that he could make it better.

Tom smiled at the look of concentration on Bill's face as he sat watching him, letting Bill do whatever he thought was apt.

Bill then pushed Tom onto his back on the bed, and crawled up to him, hovering above him.

"What?" Tom asked, looking up at him, his eyes dancing in amusement.

"Making you more comfortable," Bill replied seriously.

"Okay," Tom murmured with an amused smile.

Bill took his arm, and closed and extended it slowly a few times, trying to ease up his muscles.

Tom chuckled again.

"What? Don't laugh." Bill chastised softly, never stopping his careful work on Tom's arm.

"Better now?" Bill asked, and glanced at Tom's face to gauge his emotion.

Tom seemed to be at ease now as he smiled. "Yeah," he nodded.

Bill grinned, pleased with himself.

They then simply stared at each other for a few long moments, their grins slowly fading. Tom was the one to avert his gaze first, seeming slightly self-conscious. He still had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Bill then looked down at his lap, not particularly observing anything.

"Can I sleep here, Tomi?" his words were out before he even thought them through. He didn't understand the complex feelings that coursed through him. The only thing he understood was that he felt a deep, primordial urge to be very close to Tom. As close as he can be.

Tom looked back at him, but seemed relaxed as he nodded, and shifted to make him some space.

Bill settled beside his twin slowly. Tom pulled up the comforter above them both, before reaching and switching off the light.

Bill didn't know why, but his heart was thudding inside his ribcage for no reason.

So he did the one thing he knew that never failed to calm him. He turned, and twined his arms and legs with Tom's. Tom readily accepted him, enveloping them both in a tight embrace.

But that did nothing to slow down his heart. Instead, it only accelerated it even more. His breathing increased in direct proportion to the blood pounding inside him.

Was he hyperventilating?

"Bill? What's wrong?" Tom asked, the tables turning now.

"I..hn..dont know.." Bill whispered. The feelings closely resembled fear to Bill. "I..I think I'm scared, Tomi.."

"Scared of what?"

Perhaps Tom's arm?

Yeah, that was it.

"I dont know. Maybe..maybe I got a little worried about your arm.."

He heard Tom sigh in the dark. "Oh Bill.." he pressed a kiss to Bill's forehead, "It's all fine now," he then brought his lips to Bill's ear, "You made it all fine.." his voice was no more than a soft breath against his burning ear.

"Oh.." Bill gasped in a short breath involuntarily at the shudder that ran through him, starting from where Tom's breath had hit his skin.

"Yeah.." Tom whispered, then patted his back gently as he held him tight, "So don't you worry.."

"Mhm.." Bill nodded, willing himself to calm down. He clung onto his brother as Tom kept patting his back.

It took a few minutes of soft pats on his back for his heartbeats to slowly come down to a normal rate.

Bill then just wasn't able to hold back the feeling of pure love and contentment that sprung inside him right from his soul, replacing his fear - or whatever it had been – and he took Tom by surprise as he lifted his head and kissed him hard on his cheek.

Tom chuckled lightly. "Sleep, Billa. Stop worrying about little things."

Bill burrowed back into his neck, and nodded, and soon, felt his eyes getting heavy under Tom's gentle hand patting at his back.

And the last thought in Bill's mind before he fell asleep was that he loved his Tomi. A lot.

...

The following few weeks passed in the same routine – accompanying Tom to his class, then spending time with Andreas until it'd be time to go back to the class to get Tom.

It was all going fine.

Until that evening they'd rode their bikes to Tom's class, as was their norm, to get Tom.

They reached there to find Tom sitting on a chair in the lobby outside the class, a man in a similar white uniform as Tom's (but with a black belt around his waist) hovering over him, looking extremely concerned –

For Tom was wincing in pain, bent double as he sat there clutching at his arm.

Bill gasped. "Tomi!" he yelled as he ran toward his twin.

The man, who obviously was the instructor, looked relieved when he saw them. "I was about to give a call to your house," the man said, "Tom hurt his arm while attempting to break a board."

Bill saw with a horrible, sinking feeling that it was the same arm that Tom had broken two years back, and had complained of pain few weeks before. Did the arm not heal properly, then? Oh Jesus. Bill felt dizzy with worry and fear.

The instructor knelt down beside Tom. "Can you try moving your arm, Tom?" he asked.

Tom lifted his head to look at the man blearily. He bit his lip, and nodded once, before moving his arm just the tiniest of fraction.

"Cant." he gritted out, and hung his head down again.

The instructor looked worriedly at Tom. He then said, "Just try to bend your arm inward, Tom, so we'd know if you've broken it or not.." he gently took Tom's arm, and moved it up slightly.

And Tom let out a loud, pained yell.

Which went straight to Bill's heart.

..."_ what if I just break his bloody arms? Then he won't be able to play guitar to his faggot brother!"..._

He heard echoes of a ten year old Tom's pained screams as his arm was twisted back brutally.

Bill's heart rate escalated and his vision darkened.

He vaguely felt Andreas close beside him. He was holding Bill's hand, and Bill was just able to hear the words 'okay and 'calm' as though through the other end of a long tunnel.

Before his world went black.


	4. Chapter 4

When Tom had complained of pain in his arm that night, it wasn't because his arm hadn't completely healed, or anything as such, as Bill had feared. Like Tom had supposed, he had just pulled a muscle.

The reason why his brother later broke the same arm, in fact, wasn't connected in any way to the fact that he had broken that arm earlier. It was just Tom's ill luck that it was his right arm, and the arm he'd naturally rely more on. And Tom had brought down the hand in knife-hand motion onto the board with a tad too much of enthusiasm.

Bill still felt mortified at himself when he thought about how could he be so delicate – he'd bloody fainted when he should've been standing strong for his twin! Tom would later always tease him about that – when their mum had come rushing to the class after hearing the news, Bill was the one fussed over on instead of Tom, for Tom had forgotten his own pain as he worried over Bill. (Don't get it wrong, Simone was freaking out with fear, wanting to take care of both of them at once. But Tom was at least in a condition to walk, and was being the ideal older brother when he urged their mother to take care of Bill)

But the worst part, where Bill would hide his face behind his hands, laughing embarrassedly, would be when Tom would start talking about Simone picking an unconscious Bill up, and cradling him to her shoulder in the same manner she would've done when they were one year olds.

'Stupid Tomi...' he now cursed his twin (never mind he was smiling and blushing as he cursed) when he thought about how Tom was absolutely skilled at relentlessly teasing him, making him squirm and flush with...coyness. Yes, oft times, Bill's skin burned not from embarrassment. It was coyness that Tom brought out in him.

The next picture was that of Tom with a bandage stuck to his jaw, distressingly near his cheek. The Tom in this picture was just six years old (and sticking his tongue out at the camera, for Bill was the one who'd taken that slightly blurred picture).

Even though Bill was the one responsible for that bandage on Tom, he still had a smile now as he saw the memories behind the moment that was captured there in that picture. Tom had used Bill's favourite towel - a faded blue towel that Bill liked to drape around his neck and walk around. He'd pretend that he was a diva, and the towel some fur coat draped around him, and Tom would kneel and sing to him while Bill would imitate the ramp-walk he'd seen one day on tv, and pass by a kneeling Tom. God, it once used to be their favourite game, Bill thought, cringing in utter mortification, his cheeks burning.

So, the reason for the fight was - Tom had dried his hair after showering with his 'fur coat'. Bill was so furious when he saw his twin standing with his favourite towel wrapped around his head that he had shoved Tom hard onto their glass table, and Tom had face-planted onto it, hitting his jaw on the edge of the table in the process.

Hell, he'd been so silly! Hurting his twin over a stupid towel. But oh well, he'd been just an immature little kid then.

All of Bill's anger had vanished the moment Tom lifted his head up to look at Bill furiously, and he saw blood oozing out from the cut on his jaw. Bill was scared shitless when he saw the blood, deeply regretting his actions as he rushed to his twin, fearing his twin's response.

"Tomi! I'm so sorry!" Bill apologized frenziedly in a shrill voice.

Tom's eyes were dark with rage as he glared daggers at Bill.

"Sod off," he muttered the worst insult he knew back then at Bill, then averted his gaze, and stormed off, holding a hand to his cut.

Yeah, Tom could be really, really scary and nasty when he'd be angry.

Tom hadn't talked to Bill for a few hours (which was excruciatingly long for Bill). Bill had then begged with huge, teary eyes as Tom sat still as a rock, brooding in anger, after having his cut cleaned and dressed by their mum. Even their mum hadn't succeeded in vanquishing Tom's steely resolve as she tried making him understand that Bill was really regretful of his actions, and that he should forgive his little brother.

Bill then decided that foregoing his dignity was the only way now to make his twin forgive him. He'd refused to budge from his position on the floor near Tom's legs as his twin sat on the couch.

Then, he'd followed Tom around as his twin stormed away from there, trying to shirk Bill off.

Bill thought that the best feeling of triumph he'd ever felt (winning awards and accolades came nowhere near it) was the moment when Tom had finally caved when Bill went overboard with his shamelessness as he grabbed Tom around his waist, made him sit on the bed (they'd ended up in Tom's bedroom amid all that catch-me-if-you-can Tom played with him), and then promptly sat down on his lap. Tom was shoving him away, and Bill only squirmed closer in retort. He kept wriggling his arse against Tom's lap –

Until Tom finally laughed.

Years later, Bill would do something similar to his twin for an altogether different reason. And this time, it'd be one among the many short recorded moments of their life, which would end up being watched by thousands, raising questions, getting discussed and debated, watched and re-watched as they got probed from different angles...

Some believing the unbelievable. Supporting it, even.

While a majority of others thought it was impossible, ridiculous, and plain revolting to think of their innocent moments 'that' way, and if they'd be not-so-innocent moments, would naturally think that they'd just been fooling around..or it was just the way they were..

And that was the normal way to take it...

Little did the majority know that 'normal' wasn't a word that could be given to the relation he and his brother shared, ever since their childhood..

All those little moments, those moments of affection and care...somehow, someway, always had exceeded what was considered normal...

Little did the majority know that Bill lived in constant fear for their reputation and career - for the small section of people hit home disturbingly close.

Next one was a picture of a nine year old Tom holding his first ever guitar. That was given to him by Gordon on his birthday...

Bill turned the pictures, a lot of them clicked by Gordon – pictures of them doing their gigs in some or the other clubs or grounds or gatherings in Madgeburg. In some, he was managing the keyboard, while Tom sung the backing vocals while simultaneously playing the guitar. Tom always liked to avoid playing the keyboard, if possible. It was more of Bill's forte. Still, Tom used to attempt if the situation ever arose..

It was really trying, if truth be told, to manage filling in the sounds that ought to be filled with drums or other such backing instruments with keyboard...

Tom would sometimes mess up his lines as he tried to simultaneously coordinate the singing with his hand movements as he played the guitar..

Bill would sometimes miss some notes on his keyboard as he tended to get engrossed in his singing..

Bill remembered how they'd be really jumpy before each show. Earlier, they only had to fear seeing bored faces, or people leaving mid-way through their performance (though that rarely happened. It was all just the phantoms of their imagination. After all that biting nails and worrying if they'd bungle up with the lines or the notes, they'd often managed to gather a round of applause in the end, and, if they'd be lucky, getting booked for another performance).

Well, now, they also feared seeing jeering, sniggering faces among the crowd, for after that incident with Tom's arm, Hahn and his cronies seemed to only grow more irritating. They would get the news about them performing, and they'd be there, all set with their distracting antics.

Bill remembered the day when Gordon had finally noticed it. While Bill liked to simply ignore them, and Tom liked to confront them the next day in their school, and return with a bleeding nose, Gordon, along with a few of his mates, had chucked them out non-too-gently, and whenever they'd ask Gordon what exactly had he and his mates done (for the bullies totally avoided Bill and Tom after that), he'd just give a conspiratory smile, and a fatherly pat to their backs.

Trust Gordon to be the silently protective step-father.

Speaking of Gordon, Bill often thought how their life would've turned out if they weren't blessed with his presence in their lives. Gordon was the sole reason for whatever they were today, and they'd forever be grateful and indebted to their step-father for that. He was the one who had sat with them for hours on end, patiently teaching them to play keyboard and guitar. He was the one who had planted the seed of music in them right at a tender age – an age when what'd be planted would never fail to flourish, if given constant attention and nourishment (and Gordon had given them just that as he stood by them throughout their journey)

Gordon had been all that Jorg failed to be – supportive, patient, and protective. He'd been their guide, their teacher, and their role-model. They'd seen him strum his guitar, and they'd been bowled over by just how cool he'd look when he created that awesome music from his electric guitar - especially Tom. Bill remembered the way his brother's mouth would be hanging open when Gordon used to visit their place, and try to impress an already-impressed Simone with his unmatched skill in playing guitar (he'd pretend that he was only playing for her sons).

God, Bill laughed when he suddenly remembered what Gordon had requested of them when he was just new into his epic pursuit for their mum. Gordon had asked them, with a self-effacing grin, to 'request him in front of their mum' to play guitar - that they really wanted to hear him play guitar. But then they'd screamed, in all their seven year old enthusiasm, asking him if he was being serious when he said he'd play guitar for them! (and Gordon had the same bright grin on his face as someone who'd just won an award).

To this day, both he and Tom considered Gordon as the best guitarist in the world.

It was Gordon's love for music that made Bill wonder how beautiful it'd be to convey one's deepest feelings through music, and that made him seriously think about that little song he'd written for his beloved rat that had left him heartbroken when it died – his first ever song about sadness and love, to be followed by a lot many songs of similar emotions that he'd pen later in his life, inspired by his own experiences, acting as an outlet for the vortex of profound emotions that'd fill his being for a certain someone...

But, like nothing is perfect in this world – Gordon too had a flaw. He would always maintain that polite distance. They could see it in the way he'd never take the liberty to force them into anything in certain situations where forcing becomes necessary (never mind they'd get a good dose of that from a pig-headed man named David Jost later in their life). Gordon never dared to try and force his opinions on them, for he thought that the right rested on their mum and their biological father. He'd only suggest them some opinion that he might have, and if it ever needed more than a simple suggestion, he'd go to Simone, and make her do the feat of forcing the twins into anything.

It didn't mean that Gordon loved them any less. In fact, he considered them as his own sons. It was just that he was too polite to cross the boundary of a step-father. He was too polite to take the liberty that 'homies' and close ones generally took for granted – forcing their opinions for the good of their loved ones.

And Bill and Tom sometimes wished if the man they wholeheartedly considered as their father would sometimes take that liberty with them, would give them a good kick in their arses when they needed it rather than simply giving them his suggestions, would forego his boundaries and fill in the blank that always seemed to be left in their lives - when an older male's affection, that should've been filled by Jorg, is considered.

And that was why it was only natural that Bill and Tom had always turned to each other for that affection.

Who ever knew that the affection between them kept on augmenting like a cry trapped in a closed, dark cavern. Their condition was something similar - two little kids trapped in their own world that was closed from the rest of the world; lost either in their music, or their dreams for their future, or their will to prove everyone who considered them weak and wrong and inept..

Their affection was trapped in that closed world...

And, just like the cry that would hit the closed walls and go on ricocheting until it'd echo and echo...

A sound amplified many times...

Until all that could be heard is a cacophony of sounds..

Their affection was just that – it amplified until it hit the peak.

Until it exploded violently in a flurry of love that ran deep, of lust and heat and thirst that they never knew were trapped inside of them..

Of need and longing and desperation and fear.


End file.
